


A Long-Standing Curiosity

by OnlyTheInevitable



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Boners, Episode: s02e25 Anasazi, Episode: s04e02 Home, Episode: s07e12 X-Cops, Erections, F/M, Masturbation, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyTheInevitable/pseuds/OnlyTheInevitable
Summary: Five times Scully was reminded of Mulder's impressive size. MSR
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 8
Kudos: 191





	A Long-Standing Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of my "Countdown" Series, where I play with the "X" times Mulder and Scully "X" trope. 10-2 will be UST-y with the final one being their first time. 
> 
> So far on my page you can find:  
> 10 times they were as intimate as a couple  
> 6 times Mulder saw Scully in her lingerie  
> 4 times they got a little too close.
> 
> Huge thanks, as always, to admiralty for the beta!

**I - A Hint (S1)**

Whenever Mulder dragged her over to the Gunmen's, she felt a wicked sense of dejavu from her years of being a tagalong little sister. When her parents were out and Missy was busy, Bill was saddled with the duty of watching her. He'd hang out with his friends, usually riding bikes around the neighborhood while she exerted herself trying to keep up, her equilibrium tilting back and forth from training wheel to training wheel scraping against the pavement.

She was the outsider, but she wanted to be included.

"Some spies are said to keep asps in their pockets in preparation for a quick suicide," Frohike proclaimed. For what reason, she didn't know.

"I heard that too," Langly agreed. "That when they feel they've been compromised, they just aggravate the asp into biting them and releasing their venom."

"Like the historical myth about Cleopatra," she added, wanting to contribute since she hadn't been able to chime in during the last several conversations.

The three unfamiliar men looked over at her with a quizzical look. Much like in the summer days spent with Bill's friend, she'd distanced herself more in an attempt to bridge the gap. She squirmed in her seat under their attention, but she didn't lower her eyes, meeting them each with a raised eyebrow that said " _What? I'm right."_

"Myth?" Mulder asked, drawing her attention to the corner of the room where he was lounging comfortably. Whereas Bill would look over his shoulder, just to make sure she was still there before taking off even faster, Mulder kept a steady gaze on her, unwilling to let her fall behind. "It's a fact she killed herself with an asp," he challenged.

The Gunmen's heads went back and forth with each volley of this proverbial match. "No, it's not. Despite the paintings of Reginald Arthur and Michel Corneille or the writing of Shakespeare making millions believe she held an asp to her breast after the death of Antony, historians have proven that it was either the stab of a sharp implement like a hairpin or a toxic ointment that caused her death."

"I'd never heard that before, that's really interesting," Byers remarked, offering her a sincere smile.

Mulder was nodding at her with what appeared to be pride as she explained this. "That does make a lot more sense than someone just having a snake in their pants at the ready," Mulder teased, turning his attention over to the more eccentric two of the trio.

"Why? You do it all the time," Frohike joked, causing Langly to cackle.

"Except he's packing a python instead of an asp," Langly added, smiling wider as Mulder grew redder.

And just like all those years ago, the group of boys defaulted to dick jokes. Except Mulder wasn't her brother, and she was a woman now. Hearing them talk so openly about a topic she'd mentally sanctioned as taboo made her eyes widen and her curiosity flare.

"How many women you bite with that thing, Mulder?" Frohike, teased.

Scully observed as Mulder's previous position of comfort became tense as his eyes flickered over to see how she was reacting to the crude locker room talk. The ease with which the comments rolled off his friends' tongues made her think that this wasn't unusual talk for them nor that it was unfounded. The only thing that seemed out of place was Mulder's embarrassment.

"Guys, come on," he chastised, glaring at them while motioning his head towards her.

Frohike looked at her and coughed away his chuckling. "Sorry, Agent Scully."

She waved her hand in front of her face in dismissal. "It doesn't bother me."

But a nagging curiosity in the back of her mind now was.

**II - A Glimpse (S2)**

Scully didn't even realize it until afterwards. A flash of a bulge in her memory coming unexpected like an after shock in an earthquake.

She was standing at her kitchen counter, sipping from a glass of water with a shaky hand while Mulder's weapon sat next to the sink. Her body was exhausted from the effort of removing Mulder's clothes without any help from the double-her-size man. She'd stumbled back into her bookshelf when his pants finally came free and she'd been too worried about waking him to realize what she'd just uncovered, but now that she was calming down, she could recollect it perfectly.

An elongated bulge in his briefs, resting innocently on his upper thigh.

E _long_ ated.

She hadn't really _seen_ anything. Not in the flesh at least.

But in the morning when she checked on him, after he'd shucked the comforter off in his sleep, she was greeted with the same visual she knew she should be politely ignoring: Mulder's impressive, albeit flaccid, penis.

She stood next to him in the silence of her bedroom and looked down at it - a one woman gallery to an amazing show. _Was he a shower or a grower?_

Despite the fact that question was running through her mind, many were presently answered. He was big, showing or growing be damned, and he wasn't a Jewish stereotype.

**III - A Brush (S4)**

"Well, you could lock the door to the office," Mulder offered, accidentally brushing against Scully's back before leaning away from her.

"Folks know I never lock the door," Sheriff Taylor responded in an uncompromising tone. Adding, "They'd start rumors," as an afterthought.

She'd been reaching for the gloves, preparing to slide them over her hands, when he shut the bathroom door. As he did this, Mulder took a few shuffling steps closer to her so he could make himself fit in the tiny room. It probably was no larger than her wingspan, but half of the area was taken by either the sink or the toilet, making it so they had no room to shuffle. She could feel his knees and chest against her, so she could tell he was trying to lean his hips back to avoid pressing against her.

However, as she snapped the latex gloves on, he tried to readjust his footing and something ended up brushing against her ass. A significant something.

Her eyes froze on the blue lip of the faux-autopsy-table lunch tray laying in front of her as her brain quickly caught up to what her body instinctively recognized. Scully turned her head, too surprised at what she was feeling to acknowledge how close his face was.

Mulder was obviously aware of what caused her look and he smoothly deadpanned, "Oh, that was my penlight," acting as if their bodies touching so intimately was just a run of the mill occurrence.

"Oh," she murmured, turning back to the tray. "I thought a longstanding curiosity had just been satisfied," she replied, with feigned despondency before intaking a breath and widening her eyes.

" _What an awfully big and warm penlight you have,"_ was the response she wished she could have said.

Mulder moaned in appreciation low next to her ear and it sent shivers down her spine. The feeling of him pressed against her on top of his warm breath tickling her ear began to feel overwhelming, so she pulled back the sheet to kill the mood instantly.

**IV - A Tease (S6)**

A four hour stakeout? No problem. Six? Manageable. Ten? They were going insane.

It was one thing when they were on the X-Files. A stakeout then usually didn't last too long. But now under Kersh's orders, they were stuck with grunt work that was redundant and usually fruitless.

During the first time they'd endured this, Mulder had come up with some hairbrained twist on a children's game so they could pass the time. After a few rounds, it became perfectly clear that the game was just them asking questions back and forth, and they decided to just do that unabashedly. "You're my friend, Scully. I just want to know more about you. Why hide behind a game?" he smirked, bumping her leg with his.

After he'd said it, she was reminded of a night only a couple of years ago where Eddie Van Bluhndt had given her a similar sentiment. Mulder had just gone on and on about a potential X-File for hours before that, so she had no doubts that this was her Mulder in the flesh, but that made it a little more intimidating than it was back then. She knew he'd always harbored some anger towards what had happened with Eddie, not at her but at himself, and she had an inkling that this was an attempt at him doing what she'd inadvertently demonstrated she wanted.

It was initially awkward for them both, but at the end of the day - they truly did just want to learn more about each other.

However, this was now their third stakeout and they'd exhausted awkward high school stories and menial facts about themselves. She supposed it was that, plus the hours of boredom under their belts that led him down this line of questioning.

"What's your bra size?" he asked, shifting in the driver's seat while trying to find a good position.

His last question had been "When did you get your first fish?" so the abrupt topic change made her start in her seat.

Scully turned to him, and didn't see any traces of humor on his face. It was like he'd just asked what her shoe size was. "My bra size?" she repeated.

There it was. A little smile on his lips as the sides of his eyes crinkled with mirth. He turned to her, his smile widening when he didn't see any angry indignation on her face, and he replied, "Yeah."

If he was going to blame their exhaustion for his boldness, so could she. "Guess."

Without even looking he replied, "34B."

Her mouth dropped as she turned to him. "Cheater!"

He laughed and held up his hands. "How?" he asked in shocked amusement.

"How did you know, you didn't even look?" She knew it was stupid as soon as the statement left her mouth. Him not looking now was his way of subtly telling her he'd looked enough in the past to have it committed to memory.

He lowered his head ever so slightly closer to her and murmured, "I thought that would have been improper of me." Her eyes fluttered to the stubble coming through across his jaw and she was brought back by the shrug of his shoulders. "But, if you insist," he declared dramatically before letting his gaze fall to her chest.

She elbowed him playfully and chuckled as he mockingly rubbed his arm. "Ow, ow, okay. Your turn."

Feeling emboldened by his question, she decided she wanted to satisfy a curiosity of her own once and for all. "How big are you?"

"Six foot even," he replied innocently. He knew damn well what she meant and his cocky grin told her that he just wanted to hear her say it.

"No. How big is your…" she stumbled over word choice. Cock was vulgar, dick sounded childish, penis sounded clinical - what effect did she want to go for? "...cock," she settled on defiantly. The last word was slightly softer than the rest and she felt the friction of every consonant in the back of her throat as her mouth opened around the vowel. She'd never realized how, if said right, the word was like an oral invitation for the namesake.

His nostrils flared in response to her bold choice and a devilish gleam twinkled in his eye. She knew what he was going to do as soon as the smile erupted across his face. "Guess."

She swallowed thickly and turned her attention to the streetlamps littering the street, wanting to appear as indifferent as he had. "Well, from the glimpses I've seen over the years-" she started with a lilt.

"Glimpses?" he asked in surprise.

She turned to him with a coquettish smile and explained, "Mulder, I'm your doctor, and you're reckless. I've seen it all."

It was too dark to see fully, but if she could trust her eyes, he was blushing. "What's your verdict, Doc?"

"Six inches," she stated firmly.

He nodded amusedly and she was just about ready to gloat when he murmured, "Half right."

"Half right?" she replied quizzically.

He turned to her and smoothly told her, "You're assuming I'm a shower."

_Bigger than six inches._

"Okay, okay," she mused. "Five inches flaccid, seven inches erect."

"Good guess," he smirked.

"But you said-"

He shifted in his seat and her attention was inadvertently drawn to the ever present mound in his lap. "Six inches flaccid, eight and a half erect," he replied.

She sat there stunned for a moment and was flustered when he waved his hand in front of her face and sang, "Earth to Scully."

"I don't believe you," she laughed breathlessly.

"Even about this?" he chuckled.

"Mulder, the average is five inches. Anything above eight is so rare," she explained, trying not to think about what he could do to her with _that_ thing.

"Wanna see it?" he teased, undoing his belt.

Mulder was just joking. She knew that. But her gaze fell into his lap anyway, eagerly committing the image of his fingers deftly undoing his belt to memory. She couldn't find her voice to stop him, so she just sat there watching him.

When the anticipated words of 'Mulder' or 'stop' didn't happen, his hands faltered and he paused, watching her until she met his gaze while he held part of his undone belt in both hands. His eyes were curious, but there was a tint of something else. Something she only saw when she dreamed of him. "Scully?" his voice came out as a whisper.

A loud banging sound reverberated through the empty streets as a woman started screaming at the top of her lungs. "Shit," Scully swore, hopping out of the car as she ran towards the suspect fleeing the scene.

**V - A Curiosity Satisfied (S7)**

After coming to Los Angeles spur of the moment, following an unseen fear monster around for the entire night, watching multiple people die, and having to deal with infuriating pests following their every move with cameras - they were exhausted.

She'd been asleep in the car the entire time it took him to drive back to their shitty motel, and when he woke her up, it was only so she could reassure him they did everything they could and all but collapse face first into her mattress. The only thing she could physically muster up the energy to do was take off her shoes and coat.

However, her sleep was interrupted by Mulder's staggered breathing from the other room, more audible to her because their adjoining rooms were still open. It was common for Mulder to have nightmares, but there had been a definite spike because of the stress from the last few weeks.

It had become a bit of an unspoken pact as of late between them that if one of them was having a nightmare, the other would just sleep next to them. It was simple and innocent, just carnal comfort of having another person near.

Scully sniffed lightly as she pulled herself off the mattress, trying to shake her exhaustion away for long enough to get to him. She grabbed the warm pillow she'd been resting on and hugged it against her chest as she shuffled across the floor to the adjoining doorway.

Along with the staggered breathing, she could hear him grunting lightly. Her eyes were barely open, but her lip tugged downward in empathy. _He'd just worked so hard and he can't even find solace in his dreams._

She made it to the doorway when her eyes registered more flesh than what she'd anticipated. Blinking the sight in front of her into view, she had to bite down on her lip to suppress a gasp.

Mulder was lying on his back, his boxers shoved around his knees, and he was pumping a massive erection with a vigorous fist.

Two. Two fists.

The sight alone was like a shot of adrenaline to her system and she felt a coiling in her gut. When he wasn't fucking his hands, he was using one to rub his precum over his head while the other fondled his balls. Mulder's face was contorted in pleasure, sweaty and flush, as his hips lifted off the bed.

Her feet felt like lead on the floor and she didn't know what to do. _Go to him? Run away? Watch?_

Mulder's breath continued to hitch as he continued his thrusts, but he was becoming erratic and she realized she was stumbling in at the tail end of it. She wasn't sure how long she'd just been asleep for, but Mulder had worked himself into a frenzy and he wasn't going to be able to hold it in for much longer.

She knew she should leave, but she didn't want to. She wanted to see Mulder in his most primal form. His eyes opened for a moment and she felt excitement run though her body like a shiver. Not fear. Not worry. She was excited at the idea of him knowing she was watching him.

But when his eyes opened, it was just to rip off the shirt he's been wearing and throw it to the floor, rolling over to grab a box of kleenex and setting it next to him on the bed before continuing.

His eyes fluttered shut as he resumed his frantic pace, his arms working so hard she could see the muscles in his biceps flexing. He looked so long and lean like this, wearing nothing but tangled boxers and arousal.

Mulder's mouth dropped open and she knew he was coming undone. His back arched off the bed as he ground himself into his hands, spurting thick lines of come all over his abdomen. Her groin felt heavy and swollen from her own arousal and the sight made her want to go over to him and beg him to finish her off. She was hugging the pillow she'd brought so tightly to her chest that she could feel her own heartbeat through it.

Mulder's breathing slowly started to return to normal as he grabbed some tissues and started cleaning himself up. It took a few wipes, but once he was done, he lifted his hips and gently eased his boxers over his hips.

Not wanting to be caught, as quietly as she could, she tiptoed back into her room and into her own bed. Now it was her turn for her breathing to turn erratic. Scully could hear Mulder's sheets shifting around, presumably from him trying to get comfortable.

Deciding that it was unlikely he'd get up and mimic what she just did, she let her hand slide down her abdomen and under the elastic of her underwear as she thought about the best eight and a half inches she'd ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Find me on Twitter and Tumblr @gaycrouton!


End file.
